You don’t hear a knock on your door — Not anything of the sort. The front door just opens —tentatively, at first, and then with more confidence. Yanda peers his head through the door—And calls out.

“…Koiwai?”

He asks, looking around. He would often stop by to cook instant ramen —It seemed like it was all he ate, considering the way he was living. But since he didn’t want to waste electricity at his own house, he cooked it over at yours.

When he receives no immediate answer, he calls out again. This time, more obnoxiously.

“YOUSUKE??”